Midnight City
by Lorelai Pattern
Summary: He should have known, really. How could he ever have mistaken Katerina Petrova as Elena Gilbert?


**/|\ Midnight City /|\**

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><p>|\

Elijah is standing at a street corner, casually leaning against a building at midnight when he spots Elena.

He watches her for a few moments, his head tilting to the side as if she is an interesting specimen to examine – and she uncannily resembles the woman from his past, so he likes to amuse himself with petty '_what if_' fantasies, and reliving memories so far back in the past it is almost painful to dig them out of his brain and relive them. He likes to tell himself that he feels nothing, and he has moved on.

(That is a lie.)

But something is different. She holds her head higher, almost strutting. It is the walk of a woman who knows what she wants and knows exactly what to do to get it in her grasp. Her uncommonly high heels click against the pavement rhythmically, and he finds his eyes scanning over her figure clad in black leather, stopping to admire the way the moon and city lights reflects against the scant amount of auburn in her brunette barrel curls -

Ah, of course.

He should have known, really. How could he ever have mistaken Katerina Petrova as Elena Gilbert?

Before he knows what he's doing, he finds himself calmly striding after her, blurring across the street with supernatural speed. Elijah knows Katerina hasn't seen him yet, if she had, she would be long gone, and he would never see her again.

He had grown bored of Mystic Falls, filled with its common and ho-hum existence that drags on day by day, never changing. It was the definition of small town America. The only interesting thing that has ever happened in that god forsaken suburban village was the doppelganger rolling in, and the love two brothers feel for her.

Elijah snorts quietly to himself. It seems that no matter where the Petrova doppelgangers go, they always happen to be caught in a self-destructing love triangle, being pulled back and forth as if they were a the flag in the middle of a tug and war game or a prize to be won.

She veers into a coffee shop, and he waits just outside the glass window, conveniently hidden enough to not be spotted by her, but having a perfect vantage point to observe her. She's ordering coffee, smiling charmingly at the young cashier, who turns bright red and stutters a greeting back to her.

The smile makes his stomach twist and turn with something unidentifiable, sending shock waves through out his entire body as he stands there, watching her rigidly.

Katerina compels the cashier to make the coffee free, a knowing smirk spreading across her lovely features. She turns on her heel, blowing at the steam rising from the warm cup, and her brown irises are suddenly looking straight at him through the streaky glass.

She freezes, and he freezes along with her, gauging her – fighting the instinct to both attack her or pull her closer and inhale the scent of her hair. (He wonders if it smells the same as it did almost five hundred years ago.)

He isn't sure how long the staring match continues, and he thinks that if they both had beating hearts, they would be drumming in their chests. She blinks, caught off guard, and he knows that right now, she is like a cornered animal, desperate and wild to escape.

And then she's yanking open the glass door, nonchalantly sipping her coffee and standing right in front of him. Her doe eyes search his face, one finger twirling around a layered curl. He waits for her to initiate any kind of conversation.

Then she curtsies, almost mockingly, a smirk lifting up the corner of her lips. He hides his astonishment.

"Lord Elijah," Katerina teases lightly, offering her free hand to him. "It has been far too long, hasn't it?"

Her words set the tone for the rest of what he thinks will be vague conversation, filled with subtext and hidden meanings they would both try to decipher in their heads when they are lying awake at night. They both know he wants to say more, but instead, he gently holds her hand, bowing in front of her, and then he places a kiss above her knuckles.

"Lady Katerina, you are as beautiful as ever."

One of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows lift, but she says nothing in response.

He feels slightly foolish, both of them staring at each other so late at night in the middle of the city. People part around them, giving the illusion of their own personal bubble. Her painted fingernails dig into the styrofoam of her coffee cup, and he watches the little movement, fascinated.

"So many things have changed," She suddenly blurts out, and his head snaps up to meet her gaze. She almost looks vulnerable, but he knows her character well enough to assume she is playing him for her own agenda. _ It is strange to hear her voice without the British accent_, he muses to himself.

"No, Katerina, it is you who has changed," Elijah finally rumbles back, almost drawling the phrase out. She hides her reactions well, but he could almost see her flinch.

Almost.

She lets out a long sigh in agreement. "Perhaps."

And then she meets his eyes, and he thinks he sees some sort of affection – dare he hope, love? - but then she turns her head away, eyebrow crinkling, and disappointment stabs at his chest.

"Shall I offer my congratulations for your newly reunited family?"

_Does she sound bitter?_ He asks himself, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.

"Congratulations? Shouldn't it be condolences?" It is a dry joke, but a joke nonetheless, and he is immensely glad that Katerina has always gotten his dark sense of humor, and she smiles at him and chuckles under her breath.

"I'd expect with all those Originals running around unsupervised, it is a blood bath." She remarks, taking another sip of her beverage.

He nods. "Yes, but they are my family. I cannot leave them to die in this world when they are so... outdated in its customs. I am glad Mother has welcomed us with open arms."

And Elijah sees her physically flinch, her eyes flashing with deep sorrow.

"We don't all have the luxury to see our families anymore, Elijah," She spits out scathingly in reply. He's surprised that after all these years she still carries a torch for her massacred family.

But she's pushing past him with her shoulder, and walking away from him down the street. He doesn't know what possesses him to shout her name after her, but he does anyway.

She stands still, and turns around slowly to look at him. The look she gives him does strange things to his thought processes, and he hesitates, "Katerina, I -"

"Don't tell Klaus you found me," She interrupts him suddenly, and then her brown eyes are swirls of several emotions. She looks like she's ready to go on her knees and plead. "Would you just... please do this one last favor, for me?"

It's a tense silence, and they both blink at each other almost comically.

"Of course," He finally responds with a croak. "You have my word."

Katerina nods, smiling faintly, and begins to walk down the block with purpose. She rounds around the corner, and she's gone.

Elijah stands there for several minutes, staring at the spot where she disappears, before a passing pedestrian knocks him out of his stupor. He coughs, straightening his jacket, and he disappears into the crowd.

He never sees her again.

/|\

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><p><strong>Okay, well, I don't know where this came from. I'm in this huge CarolineKlaus obsession, and no, I haven't forgotten Tourist! Anyway, I love Elijah and Katherine/Katerina, and I hope they have some scenes together in future episodes. Until then, have some tension and angst all rolled into a 1,000 word fic. Please remember that English is not my first language!**

**Please leave a review!**


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